Broken Beauty
by QwertyWords
Summary: New girl, Dorothy, gets caught up with the Shelby family drama - whether she likes it or not. Independent and brash, Tommy instantly finds himself drawn to her; unsure whether it's lust, love or hate.
1. Chapter 1

Her first impression of the area was quite underwhelming. It was just like all the other towns she had passed through. The only thing that stood out was the suited and booted man riding a horse down the narrow street. No one else seemed to look at the man with the same curiosity as Dorothy. The horse was a striking black colour and seemed completely indifferent to all the noise around it and the mystery man was stone-faced. Dorothy couldn't stop staring at them as they walked through the streets and didn't notice the young lad as he ran from a darkened alley into her path. A knock to her hip and she from the blur in front of her and she landed with a small thud on the floor, bag falling a few feet away to her side. She quickly gathered herself and as she began to stand a deep Birmingham accent spoke up over the noise of the street.

"Finn, 'elp the lady up and be on your way. I thought I'd told you about runnin' around like that."

A hand shot out in Dorothy's face and she gladly accepted the help from the boy. He couldn't have been more than 10 years old, with an ash-covered shirt on and smudges of soot all over his face. The mischievous glint in his eye made him appear much older than he actually was.

"Sorry miss. I wasn't lookin'," the boy – Finn, as the voice had identified him as – turned to face the man on the horse before continuing, "I was on ma' way home now Tommy. Honest." Finn resumed running through the street towards one of the houses across the way. Dorothy dusted herself off and moved to pick up her bag when that deep voice spoke once more.

"Sorry Miss. Our Finn hasn't learnt 'is manners yet by the looks of it."

"It's alright. Boys will be boys as they say. No bother, mister…" Dorothy trailed off hoping the gentleman would continue.

"Thomas."

"It's no bother, Thomas."

Thomas looked Dorothy up and down for several seconds before tipping the brim of his hat towards her and continuing on his way. It was only when the buzz of the street grew loud again that Dorothy even realised it had been silent during their encounter.

Dorothy pushed open the door to The Garrison tentatively.

"Hello?"

There was a silence that answered her as she stepped further into the seemingly empty pub.

"Hello? Is anyone in?"

"We're closed." A gruff voice replied. A man emerged from behind the bar with rolled-up sleeves, a stained apron around his waist and a cigarette hanging between his lips.

"Good. That's what I was hoping for. I'm not here for a drink; I'm here to be your new barmaid."

His eyes wandered up and down her body before s slight chuckled escaped his mouth. "You must have the wrong place love. The lads here would have you up against a wall on your first-day 'ere. I'm doin' you a favour when I tell you to go home."

Having thought the matter was done with, the barman simply turned around and began sweeping the wooden floors. Dorothy took a deep breath in before gently placing her hat and handbag on a nearby table and began gathering empty glasses from around the room and placing them on the bar.

"I heard that you were looking for help and I'm here for the job. I'm glad for your advice but I don't need a favour. I need a job. I'm a lot harder to break than I may look."

The man once again looked up at Dorothy as she began clearing up. She was a small little thing with auburn hair and deep brown eyes. Her clothes looked like they'd seen better days and her quiet focus was almost calming. Harry watched as she walked up to him and gently took the broom from his hands. She began sweeping and humming and Harry couldn't help but smile at the nerve of this young lady.

"Two o'clock this afternoon. We'll see 'ow it goes. Alright?"

"Thank you, mister. I'll be there."

Dorothy gathered her belongings and made her way towards the front doors.

"I'm Dorothy by the way," she said over her shoulder.

"Nice to meet you Dotty. I'm Harry. Harry Fenton."

With a nod back to Harry, she left The Garrison and went back to her small room at the inn to prepare for the evening.

Most of the men made the occasional indecent comment but they were all bark and no bite. Dorothy could feel Harry's eyes on her, watching her over the course of the afternoon.

"Is it always this busy during the day, Harry?" Dorothy questioned. Men were lining up three bodies deep to buy their next pint.

"Nah, not normally. These boys are on their way to St Andrew's." Harry replied as he poured more whiskey.

"Big game then?"

"I'll say, the blues are playing." Harry continued on to point out members of the team dotted around the pub but Dorothy's focus was elsewhere. The small window to the snug opened to reveal the gentleman from the street earlier today. His face was as unreadable as it had been earlier, but Dorothy could have sworn she saw a brief expression of shock on the Thomas' face upon seeing her.

"I need a bottle of rum," Thomas said as he pulled out a stack of notes.

"Whatever it is, it's on the house," Harry whispered in her ear.

"A whole bottle?" she questioned. Thomas simply grunted his reply at her.

"White or dark rum?" Dorothy had barely finished her question before Thomas hastily replied that he didn't care. "Must be a big celebration," Dorothy said as she handed the bottle to Thomas.

"Big fight is more like it," Thomas mumbled.

"Is your son alright? He wasn't hurt was he?"

Thomas looked curiously at her, "my son?" he questioned.

"Finn. The young lad you were with earlier…"

"He's my brother. Not my boy. He's fine, it's my other brother who's gonna' be needing this." Thomas answered gesturing to the bottle Dorothy had placed before him.

"Harry says it's on the house."

Thomas looked Dorothy up and down before bluntly asking, "Are you a whore?" Dorothy had no response to give before he continued, "'cause if you're not, you're in the wrong place."

Still trying to form a scalding reply in her mind, Thomas walked away swiftly. Lost for words and desperate to defend her honour, Dorothy found herself leaving the safety of behind the bar and following Thomas out of The Garrison. She vaguely heard Harry shout something to her as she walked away but merely waved back at him and continued marching behind Thomas.

The streets were quiet, and Thomas strode in front of her as if on a mission.

"Excuse you!" Dorothy shouted to the man walking away from her. Thomas glanced over his shoulder but continued walking towards a house. "How dare you mister Thomas. You haven't a clue who I am so don't you go accusing me of being indecent." Thomas had stopped outside of an open door where faint groaning could be heard. Dorothy's curiosity got the better of her and rather than having It out with Thomas on the doorstep she walked further through the open door. Tommy couldn't believe what he was watching as she waltzed past him into the Shelby home. He couldn't seem to recover from her brazen attitude. After the smell of her perfume had floated past him, he came to his senses and hurried to catch up to the mystery lady before she wandered too far.

"Where do you think you're-" Tommy caught up with the barmaid as she entered their den.

"Who the 'ell is that?" a bloodied man spat out at Dorothy.

"No one. Just a barmaid." Tommy said through gritted teeth as he reached out to hold Dorothy's arm before she could take another step. He gripped tighter than he should have but this newcomer had amazed him with her confidence thus far and he couldn't be sure what she'd do next.

"Dorothy," she replied bluntly to the injured man, shooting daggers back at her captor – his hand too tight around her small arm. "You need to wash the blood out of his eyes for a start." Dorothy forcefully pulled her arm from Thomas' grip, causing the stitching on the shoulder of her dress to tear. She paid the rip no mind and walked closer to the injured man.

"Told ya' John, I know what I'm talkin' about," Ada said, walking over towards John. "Go get 'er some water for Arthur."

The man with the toothpick left the room and Thomas just stood there in silence as the new girl – Dorothy – knelt next to his injured brother. When John returned, a bowl of water and rag in hand, Dorothy gave John a kind smile before refocusing on the task at hand.

"Now this will sting a bit, but it's for the best, alright?"

Before Arthur could reply Dorothy had soaked the rag with hot water and began gently rubbing the cloth in circles across his face. His fists tensed as Polly was tending to his broken thumb, "Oi. Relax your hand. It's hard enough with all the fidgeting you're doin' so keep still will ya'?" Polly snapped at Arthur. Dorothy just continued to clean Arthurs cuts and gently wash the blood and grim from him. Ada, Tommy and John all stood at the edge of the room in shock. Not many people came this close to the family at such a vulnerable time, and certainly not if they were new to the area. Yet there Dorothy was, new on the street, unknown to the family and caring for the eldest as though they were kin.

Once Dorothy was done with cleaning the blood from Arthur she turned harshly towards the head of the family.

"You planning on using the rum, Thomas, or just gonna' stand their cradling it?" Everyone in the room turned to face Tommy. No one called him by his first name like that. No one disrespected him like that. Tommy merely handed the bottle to Dorothy with a semi-amused expression on his face. The fire in her eyes and her clear lack of understanding of who he was, was quite refreshing.

"Drink some," Dorothy commanded, handing the bottle to Arthur. The eldest Shelby looked at Tommy hesitantly, unsure of whether or not to trust the bold woman in front of him. Tommy gave a silent nod to his older brother and watched as Arthur, with a shaky hand, accepted the rum from Dorothy and took a sip. Dorothy then grabbed the bottle back and poured some onto the wet rag before pressing it against the deep gash on his forehead. Arthur let out a pained breath and tensed his whole body before the numbness began to spread. Dorothy placed the bottle back in Arthurs hand for him to continue drinking.

Dorothy stood up and brushed herself off. Her dress was torn at the shoulder and had blood all over the sleeves, but she looked unfazed.

"Right, well I'll leave you all to it. Ladies. Gents." Dorothy nodded her head at the family watching her and walked out of the room before anyone had a chance to stop her.

The Shelby's were left in silence, wondering what force had just swept through their house.

"Where'd ya' find that one, Tommy?" Polly asked.

"She was at The Garrison. Just followed me in here."

Polly chuckled. She could see there was something about that girl. She had the looks, no doubt about it, but Dotty's courage was something else. "Well, I reckon we owe 'er a new dress."

**A/N** Hi everyone. I've just started watching Peaky Blinders and I love it so far and I just had to write! I'd appreciate any feedback so please review, follow and favourite! Let me know what you think.

-QwertyWords


	2. Chapter 2

Upon Dorothy's return to the Garrison, she noted a young blonde woman had joined Harry behind the bar.

"Sorry Harry, I got caught up with Thomas."

Harry stared at her silently, mouth slightly open in shock as though he was looking for the right words to say. "Look, Grace, Dotty.' The two barmaids gathered beside him, "You're both friendly girls but be careful. If I say something's on the house then say nothing to whoever you're serving. You certainly shouldn't follow 'em out the door." Harry focused on Dorothy, conveying his seriousness thorough the slight fear in his eyes. "The Shelby's and their… Associates. They aren't to be messed with. If they decide they want you…" The older man began to rub his chin in frustration and discomfort. "There's nothing anybody can do about it." A heavy silence fell upon the three bar hands. "Lucky for you, since he got back from France, Tommy doesn't want anybody at all."

Harry resumed serving the demanding patrons as the two young women stared quietly at one another. Dorothy didn't feel that uneasy around the Shelby family. Their name seemed to strike fear into everyone in town but so far, their fear-striking abilities hadn't worked on her. Grace, however, looked quietly fearful.

"Hey, don't worry about 'em. I've been dealing with lads like them my whole life. Stick with me." Dorothy tried to sound reassuring but Grace could only muster a half-hearted smile in response.

"Dorothy, by the way. Dotty if you prefer." Dorothy held out her hand to the blonde barmaid.

"Grace." The other women replied before sweeping around and continuing to serve customers.

Dorothy couldn't help but feel a little bit on edge with Grace's cool greeting, but she put it down to first day nerves and the two worked silently side by side the rest of the night.

The distant sound of whistles woke Dorothy up. Instant panic set over her and all too fresh memories of whistles blowing and men running caused her to leave the comfort of her bed. In minutes, she was out the door and wandering the damp alleys towards the source of the commotion. As she rounded the corner she froze. Men were being pulled from their homes, furniture thrown from houses and children cowered in the street. With a calming breath, Dorothy began. First, running towards two young children crying for their father. She could see no bleeding and swiftly moved on towards the next group. Women huddle together in a group. Another glance at them and no obvious injuries. Next, a man pinned on the floor. He had a bloodied nose and his arm was being pulled at an uncomfortable angle. Two coppers held him down as a third ransacked his house.

"Oi!" Dorothy shouted from six paces away. No one reacted. "Oi!" She shouted again, three paces. Nothing. "I said, oi!" Dorothy had reached the group and moved to pull one of the officers from the poor man.

The sting in her cheek didn't take long to make itself known as she fell to the floor, the officer's arm still swinging through the air, fresh from her sharp slap.

After she had recovered, Dorothy tried again to help the bloodied man on the floor and, again, she was pushed away – earning herself a grazed hand for her troubles as she landed on the cold cobbles.

"Miss." The polite tone of an Irish voice caught Dorothy's attention. "I wouldn't try that again if I were you. You see, this is official police business and we wouldn't want you to get caught up in all this commie nonsense, now would we?" The man pulled a pipe from his pocket and lit it in front of Dorothy. "Because if you were to get caught up in all of this, we'd have to take you with us too." His tone was condescending and vile. Something about the way he moved, the way he held himself, put Dorothy on edge.

"If your men were a bit more gentle, I wouldn't be here trying to mop up their blood, Officer"

"Inspector." He bit back, without missing a beat. Dorothy knew from his clothes and the smarmy tone that he was one of the higher-ups but she couldn't resist a small dig. Dorothy had never really known when she should stop and it had gotten her into trouble more than once.

"Sorry, in-spec-tor." Dorothy over-pronounced every letter in an effort to sound insincere. The words exchanged may have been pleasant enough but both parties could tell their encounter was anything but friendly.

Campbell extended his arm out to her to help her off the ground. She hesitantly accepted.

As Campbell helped her up, he pulled Dorothy in close and whispered menacingly, "Watch yourself, girl. I don't know how things used to run but rest assured, I run a much tighter ship."

The men were taken away in the dozens, leaving the women and children behind.

The fire was a sight to behold that eve. The middle of the street – it couldn't have been more dramatic if the boys had tried. It certainly sent a message. People buzzed around the blaze as more and more portraits were thrown onto the pile. Through the flames, she could see the Shelby brothers. After further conversations with Harry, she finally understood their social standing; the reputation Shelby's had and the status they held.

Dorothy was entranced by the flames. The way they flickered against the black sky and the warmth that kissed her skin. It was reminiscent of a more fearful time yet oddly comforting. Familiar. As the evening wore on, families retreated to the safety of their homes and the crowd thinned to only a handful of people. Dorothy was so entranced by the fire than she barely noticed Tommy approach her.

"Smoke?"

Dorothy had been told Tommy was a man of few words but she couldn't hide the smirk on her face from just how few words he used.

"Thanks," she replied.

Tommy held out his cigarettes and with her grazed hand, Dorothy picked out one and placed it between her lips. Tommy looked at her questioningly as he noted the scrapes on her palm.

"I _fell_ into a copper's hand," Dorothy replied nonchalantly. Tommy raised a match to her face to light her smoke and noticed the red bruise forming on her cheek. Again, he looked at her for further explanation. "I _fell_ twice."

The following day saw Dorothy working at The Garrison. It was quiet. People were still hesitant about leaving their homes, what with the new policemen wandering the streets. The crowd never particularly picked up and Grace left early to run errands and go shopping. Harry left early to go to the pictures. Dorothy hummed to herself as she closed up for the night. As she began to clear the empty glasses and wipe the puddles of beer from the bar that night, Tommy walked in.

"Mr Shelby." Dorothy nodded her head as he entered.

"Whi-" Tommy was cut off as the sound of a clean glass and full bottle of whiskey chimed as Dorothy placed them on the bar.

"I'll leave you alone." Dorothy went to bow out of the room when his voice stopped her.

"I came 'ere for company."

Dorothy paused. Unsure of where to stand or what to say.

"Where's Harry?"

"He took the night off. I'm closing the pub alone, Mr Shelby."

"Dangerous around these parts. Lady like you shouldn't be wandering alone late at night. Dangerous men about."

"So I've been told, Mr Shel-"

"It's Tommy. Just Tommy." He poured himself a glass of whiskey and downed it in one.

"Long night, Thomas?" She was testing his last nerve, yet he couldn't summon the energy to be mad.

Dorothy sat down opposite him at his table. "Somethin' like that." He replied.

A silence hung between them, not comfortable but not uncomfortable. Just a heavy silence until Dorothy tried again.

"I hear you're goin' to the races. Grace went to go buy a dress today. She doesn't say much, that one, but she did tell me I'll be needing to cover her shift soon." Tommy barely acknowledged Dorothy's presence, so she persisted. "How's Arthur doing? He seemed much better last night at the fire, save for the fact he was blind drunk. I'm sorry about that, by the way. Not the finest introduction. If I'd had known who you all were I'd have-"

"You'd have what?"

Dorothy was caught off guard by his reply. She hadn't been aware he was even still listening to her. She blushed slightly, "I'd probably have done it anyway."

After finishing his second whiskey, Tommy pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Dorothy. She accepted gratefully and leaned forward slowly for him to light it.

"Cheltenham." Dorothy kept quiet so Tommy would elaborate. "The races we're going to. It's Cheltenham."

"You and Grace will have a grand time" Dorothy replied.

"No. 'We' are going to. You too."

"But, Mr Shelby I-"

"Tommy." He commanded.

"But, Thomas," Dorothy tested him slightly and the faint trace of a smile momentarily graced his lips before returning to the straight-faced man he usually was. "I wouldn't know what to wear or what to do. I've never been to the races before."

"Where is it you're from, Doll?" Tommy cigarette hung out his mouth and a cloud of smoke surrounded his face.

"Dorothy." She corrected.

"I know who you are," Tommy replied smugly.

"I'm from London way, Thomas."

Both of them were trying to hide their smirks from the other, determined to have the last word.

"I've asked around about you, ya' know. No one knows who you are. See, I have friends down in London."

Dorothy grew uneasy, their friendly banter rapidly changing to an uncomfortable interrogation.

"I-"

"See my guess is; you're a girl from a good family. Who got herself pregnant. And bringing a child into the world, alone, ruins your life. Right?"

Dorothy took a moment to gather herself. Rather than lashing out she simply shrugged. "You can think what you want to think, Mr Shelby. No one here is interested in anything more than gossip."

Tommy raised an eyebrow interestedly, "Go on then."

"I lived in London when I was young. Moved around a lot with my family. After I got back from France…" Tommy's posture changed. He leaned in further upon her mentioning of the war. "I thought London would be the place for me. I thought wrong. Thought I'd try again up 'ere instead."

The silence that existed between them was mutually appreciated. Tommy poured another glass of whiskey and pushed it towards Dorothy. Hesitantly bringing her eyes up to meet Tommy's she quietly accepted his offer and finished the glass. "Well, you'll have a grand time with us in Cheltenham. Two pounds wage and a day out. I won't hear no more." Tommy declared.

"But-" Tommy silenced Dorothy as he poured himself a final drink, swallowed the liquid in one and sat his empty glass back on the table.

"Not. A. Word." Tommy rose from his seat and made his way to the door, turning just before he slipped out into the street, "Doll."

When Dorothy arrived at work the next day, behind the vacant bar rested a small package wrapped with brown paper. 'Doll" written in thick dark letters on the front. Dorothy didn't have time to give it a second thought as the first patrons of the day arrived. The Shelby brothers arrived at midday and occupied the snug. Grace insisted on serving them and Dorothy gave no objection. As the beer flowed and the songs were sung, Dorothy could almost pretend she was enjoying herself. Everyone's cheery attitude was of stark contrast to that of the mood a few mornings ago during the raid. While Harry was tending to the men waiting for drinks, Dorothy retrieved the mysterious package from beneath the bar and carefully untied the strings fastening it. Folded carefully inside was a silk black dress with delicate white beading running across the neckline. Dorothy couldn't help but smile. She looked through the hatch to the snug and met blue eyes staring back at her.

"Holy shit." Harry's exclamation caught Dorothy's attention. "It's Billy Kimber."

The man in question moved slowly, deliberately, as the crowd parted for him.

"Is there any man here named Shelby?" Kimber was flanked by two large men carrying large guns. As his eyes fell onto Dorothy, she was sure not to look away. She wouldn't let this man scare her into blinking first. His gaze passed over her, onto Grace. He pulled out a gun from his breast pocket and shot directly into the ceiling. "I said: Is there any man here names Shelby?"

Tommy sauntered from the small room, Arthur and John on his tail, and told Billy to get the men a drink. "Everybody out," Tommy commanded.

"Whiskey," Harry mumbled to Dorothy as he moved to herd people out the back door. Dorothy did as she was told and gathered enough glasses for all the men and a bottle of whiskey.

"You go home," Tommy ordered.

Dorothy knew better than to make a fuss.

"I've never approved of women in pubs, but when they look like that…" Kimber's stare made Dorothy's stomach turn and her temper flare as she silently retreated from The Garrison.

When she got back to her small Inn room, she studied the dress further, removing it completely from the packaging. A small handwritten note fell from the parcel.

'For The Races'

**A/N** Thank you for reading! Please leave a review and favourite/follow the story if you're enjoying it.

-QwertyWords


	3. Chapter 3

Grace and Dorothy worked side by side in an uneasy quiet, only addressing the other to say 'excuse me' as they passed. Dorothy's mind was working overtime trying to think of something to say to break the silence but Tommy's unexpected entrance was the first break from the quiet. Despite Dorothy being closer to Tommy, Grace quickly pushed past her to serve the Shelby man, giving him Irish whiskey and three glasses.

"I've decided not to go. To the races." Grace stated, "Not unless you give me another two-pound, ten shillings toward the dress."

"I've already given you three," Tommy replied, he addressed Grace but his eyes were looking past her in search of Dorothy. Dorothy was listening to the exchange intently while trying not to show her curiosity.

"How much did you pay for the suit you'll be wearing?" Grace's voice was almost melodic, her Irish accent enticing.

"Oh I don't pay for suits," Tommy said casually, "My suits are on the house, or the house burns down."

"So you want me to go looking like a flower girl?" Grace countered.

"What I want makes no difference. It's not me you're dressin' up for"

No sooner had the hatch to the snug closed when two unfamiliar men walked in. Grace seemed to remain close to the snug and float around that end of the pub for the remainder of the morning. After Tommy had ended the conversation, the two girls fell back into their wordless routine. Dorothy continued to tidy the pub and restock while Grace hovered around the snug.

"So, what does your dress look like? Must be gorgeous for five pounds." Dorothy asked, eager for the conversation to flow. She didn't have many friends in this new place and was desperate for someone to talk to. Grace didn't seem to share the same idea.

"It's red." Straight to the point, cool and detached. Dorothy would have to try and find someone else to talk to instead and with a roll of her eyes, continued to sweep The Garrison and hum.

Ten minutes after Mr Shelby had taken the whiskey, the two strangers left The Garrison singing. Tommy slowly made his way towards Dorothy. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and as he approached the bar, Grace interrupted. "I thought you only allowed singing on a Saturday."

Tommy's focus reluctantly shifted from Dorothy to the blonde woman beside her. "Whiskey is good proofing water. It tells you who's real and who isn't."

"And what did my countrymen want?" Grace inquired.

"Oh, they're nobodies. They drink at The Black Swan in Sparkbrook." Tommy stated.

Dorothy interrupted, "They're only rebels 'cause they like the songs."

Tommy smirked at her contribution and Grace looked less than impressed.

"You have sympathies with them?" Grace continued. Dorothy was getting bored with the questions and decided to leave the two to it and go check on the stock in the cellar. As she left the room she could feel two sets of eyes on her.

After Dorothy had finished her jobs for the morning she wandered over to the church. With few friends and little else to do, she thought spending time with God may help. What Dorothy hadn't expected to see was the eldest Shelby brother, halfway through a bottle of whiskey stretched out across a pew.

"Mr Shelby," Dorothy nodded her greeting at the man.

"Well if it isn't our Dotty come to save the day again…" Arthurs speech was slurred, and his face was sad. Dorothy had seen this before. Flanders blues. As she went to walk past him the man reached out and clung onto her, much like children clung to their mother's skirts.

"Mr Shelby, shall I go and get someone for you?"

"No." He replied quickly. "No. Just. Just stay." Dorothy was stunned, to say the least. "Please?" he asked. His desperation caused her to sit down beside him. They sat in silence for a few minutes until Dorothy found the courage to speak.

"Just feels hopeless doesn't it?" Arthur merely shrugged in response. "All that violence. All that bloodshed and for what? Doesn't feel all that much different. Now the dust has settled." Dorothy fidgeted in her seat, uncomfortable, but continued. "Our lives changed so much over there but here… Everything, and nothing, is all the same."

Arthur's eyes darted to face her, the 'our' catching his attention. "You were out there?"

"I was a nurse. I saw… everything."

The heaviness of what she had said wasn't lost on either of them.

"We may have come back alive, but we all died a little bit over there."

Arthur gave a sick chuckle before replying, "Ain't that the truth."

She let their shared experience speak for itself before continuing, "But. Some people didn't come back at all. We both saw it. And we owe it to all of the fallen men to at least try."

An emotional sigh was all she got back from the eldest Shelby. He passed her the whiskey and much to both their surprise, took a sip. It burned down her throat as she drank it but she was grateful to feel the warmth in her stomach.

"In God's house Arthur? You've even corrupted Doll. This must be a new low, brother." Tommy teased. Dorothy's head shot around to the intruder and she quickly stood.

"I'll be going then." One more sip of whiskey, Dorothy nodded to the brothers and left. She faintly heard Arthur's mumbled thanks as she exited the church.

On her way into work the following day, Dorothy ran into Ada Thorne nee Shelby. The woman was running frantically down the street and almost fell into Dorothy's arms.

"Ms Thorne, what's wrong?" Dorothy asked worriedly. It was only once before the two women had spoken but the crazed look on Ada's face was cause for concern.

"Have you seen Freddie Thorne?"

"No, I-"

"Or Tommy?" Ada cut of Dorothy with a groan.

The young Thorne held her stomach as she leant over in pain.

"No, I haven't seen either of them. What's wrong?" Dorothy carried Ada's weight as they stumbled into The Garrison. "Grace. Get some water." Dorothy shouted to her colleague. The blonde appeared at Ada's other side with a glass of water and together they lowered her into a chair. "Drink this, Ada."

Ada pushed the water aside and tried to stand up, "I have to find them, I think they're gonna' kill each other."

Before Dorothy could take in the scenario and consider what she was doing, the words escaped her lips, "I'll go. Just stay here Ada. Drink the water. Stay calm."

"Check the canals!" Ada exclaimed. Dorothy nodded hopefully at Ada and walked out the doors.

Tommy was knelt by the waterway with a gun pointed at his head. Dorothy couldn't hear what was being said but neither of the men looked all too pleased.

"Thorne! Shelby!" Dorothy shouted from a distance, marching up to the men. "What the hell is goin' on?"

"Doll, leave. Now." Tommy ordered. Dorothy paid him no mind and continued her approach.

"You are Freddie Thorne, right? Ada's husband."

"Who the 'ell is this?" Freddie asked, looking through Dorothy to Tommy.

"Your wife is making herself sick over this, Freddie. Just put the gun down and go home." Dorothy pleaded.

Freddie laughed, his gun wavering slightly giving Tommy enough time to jump to his feet and pull out a gun of his own. "This your big plan Tommy? Get another woman to do the job for you. If you want me out of Birmingham, Tommy, it'll have to be in a damn box."

Dorothy was stuck between the two of them holding guns aimed at the other. "Dorothy. Leave. I won't tell you again."

"Thomas. I won't leave until one of you used your godforsaken brains and puts the gun down. Don't you talk to me like a child."

"He thinks he owns us all, Love," Freddie said causing Dorothy to spin to face him.

"I'm not your Love," Dorothy said through gritted teeth.

"Your marriage will not stand," Tommy said menacingly as he lowered his gun.

"Go. She's in The Garrison. Show her you're not dead." Dorothy ordered Freddie who reluctantly backed away towards the pub.

Tommy roughly grabbed Dorothy by the shoulder and swung her around to face him.

"And what in the bleedin' hell do you think you're doin' here?" Tommy asked angrily, "When I tell you to leave, you damn well do it."

"You do not own me, Thomas Shelby," Dorothy said defiantly. She crossed her arms across her chest and stood her ground.

"That's where your wrong, Doll," Tommy's anger was rising. His volume got quieter and his language carefully chosen. Venom in each word. "I own the clothes you wear, the pot you piss in and the hook you hang your hat on. I own the streets you walk down and I own the bed you sleep in. I'm a bloody Shelby." Tommy turned to walk away as Dorothy held his arm causing him to turn back.

"You. Do. Not. Own. Me." Dorothy's eyes were ablaze and her hair wild and uncombed. Her sleeves were rolled from work and her skirt was askew from the action. She looked nothing like a lady should but commanded his attention all the same. She moved forward towards him one step, "I," one more step closer "Am," one step closer, "Not," another step, "Yours."

She was stood directly in front of Tommy, her breath grazed against his skin and the faint smell of cigarettes, whiskey and perfume surrounded her. Tommy looked down at her angered face, their eyes meeting.

Tommy's lips crashed down on hers, forcing her backwards from his sheer force. The first second Dorothy didn't know what to do but she soon felt her instincts taking over and melting into the kiss. Anger and passion poured into their connection as Tommy's hands moved from gripping her face down towards her waist. In sudden realisation, Dorothy pushed him back with all her might as her right hand caught his cheek with a resounding slap.

Tommy held his cheek for a moment and took a deep breath. The kiss had felt right, she had felt right. The perfect height and size to fit against his body. Their lips moved in sync with one another. That was until she stopped him. He fixed his collar and pulled his coat tighter. He corrected himself and looked back up towards Dorothy.

She was stood with her hand covering her mouth. Shaking. Fearful. She had just slapped Thomas Shelby.

"When I tell you to leave. You leave. Got it?"

Dorothy just nodded silently, scared to further antagonise him.

Tommy turned to walk away, "'Else next time you might end up getting shot by one of those things."

Dorothy remained rooted in her spot as she calmed her racing heart and controlled her breathing. The kiss had been perfect but unexpected. His wandering hands, however, had been unwelcome.

Tommy walked into The Garrison the following day as though nothing had happened. At the sight of him, Dorothy felt her cheeks blush and she could only stare at the floor. She was more than happy to let Grace serve him.

"Nine-o'clock tomorrow morning. Mr Shelby wants to meet us here." Grace informed her. Dorothy nodded and hesitantly walked over towards the snug as Grace served.

"Mr Shelby." Tommy nodded his head slightly, indicating she was to come in. "I'm very sorry Sir. I-"

"Well, I was clearly wrong about you bein' a whore, wasn't I," Tommy stated.

Dorothy felt her anger towards the man flare. She came in to apologise and there he sat, antagonising her. "I think it's best I don't go tomorrow, Sir."

Tommy didn't apologise often. He knew he should but taunting her was so much more interesting. "And why is that, Doll?"

Again, Dorothy took a deep calming breath before answering, "Well yesterday-"

"Yesterday never happened. Alright? It was a mistake." Tommy replied curtly.

Dorothy's heart fell slightly in her chest. "Okay, Sir."

Tommy and Dorothy couldn't bring themselves to look the other in the eye.

"Nine-o'clock. Tomorrow." Tommy finished his drink and left The Garrison.

The following morning, Dorothy bathed, cleaned her hair and put on the black, beaded dress. It looked flawless. Each bead caught the reflection of the light and sparkled delicately against her pale skin. She took care to paint her lips a subtle red and curl her hair just-so. As she walked to The Garrison, her shoes clicked against the cobbles.

As Tommy pulled up to the pub he opened the back door, "Grace," he motioned to the back seat, much to Grace's disappointment. "Doll," he said as he opened the front door, much to Dorothy's discomfort. It seemed as though neither girl was sat where they wanted to be.

The drive was quiet. Grace occasionally asked Tommy a question, she was far more interested in talking to him than she ever was talking to Dorothy. When they arrived, Tommy guided Grace through the back rooms with a hand on her back. Dorothy trailed behind, looking closely at all the goings-on. Men in brightly coloured jackets walked with urgency all around her and the faint sound of horses whinnying could be heard.

"Okay, you do the talking," Tommy whispered to Grace. The blonde looked confused as he explained further, "Tell security you are Lady Sarah Duggan of Connemara." Dorothy had caught up to them at this point and could see the concern across Grace's face. "Say you got lost when you went to look for the boy riding your horse, er, Dandy Flower."

As the three approached the red velvet rope, Grace faltered.

Swiftly, Dorothy pushed through Tommy and Grace and took over.

"Lady Sarah." Dorothy gestured behind her to Grace. "She got a tad lost when looking for the boy riding her horse, but we've found her now so she's ready to go back through." The guard looked uncertainly at Tommy. "He's Prussian, can't speak a word of English." The guard hesitated once again and panic began to rise in Dorothy's chest. "Are you really going to keep the Lady of Connemara waiting?"

The guard mumbled his apologies and pulled back the partition for the three of them to walk through. Once they were out of sight, Dorothy let out a sigh of relief.

"Extra quid for Doll," Tommy declared and turned to face Grace, "Follow her lead."

Music played loudly through the room and couples danced cheerfully. A young suited man approached the trio and asked for Grace's hand to dance. Reluctantly, she agreed.

"What do you say Doll, will you dance with me?"

Dorothy hesitated momentarily before slipping her hand into Tommy's as he escorted her to the dance floor.

"Lead me over there," Dorothy said, gesturing to the far corner, "That's got the best view of Kimber's table."

A faint smile played on Tommy's face as he admired how quickly Dorothy caught on to his plans.

"Since when do you give the orders around here?" he questioned.

She paused for a second and for the first time that day, brought her eyes up to meet his. There was a moment of meaningful silence before she spoke, "Since you nearly smiled."

**A/N **I hope you enjoyed it! Also, thank you to my first two reviewers, I hope this update doesn't disappoint. Please favourite and follow if you're enjoying it and leave a review!

-QwertyWords


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N** Slight trigger warning for this chapter._

They danced together for two songs, having completely forgotten about Grace. Dorothy's close proximity to Tommy stirred memories in the back of his mind. Going out before all the horrors of the war had been fun. Every time he'd gone out since coming home, it hadn't been the same. Until tonight. The way they pieced together, the way she anticipated his every move and the way she looked at him was addictive. Her small frame gently rocking and bouncing to the music against his was doing little to help him stay focused on the task at hand, so he began to lead her closer to Kimber's table.

Grace was watching the two of them intently and excused herself from her current dance partner.

"Do you mind?" Grace asked Dorothy.

Before Dorothy could answer, Tommy replied for her, "Not at all."

Tommy placed Dorothy's hand in Grace's and excused himself, "Ladies."

Kimber's full attention was now solely on the two women as Tommy had walked briskly over to the other side of the room.

"Just follow my lead and do as I say, trust me, they'll like it." Dorothy reached out her other hand towards Grace and took the woman's hand in her own. "Dance," Dorothy commanded. The two women twirled together and had the attention of every man in the room. "Smile, Grace. Show them all you're having a good time." Grace followed along and continued to sway her hips in time with Dorothy's. Kimber was transfixed and even Tommy had trouble tearing his eyes away long enough to receive the bags from Arthur.

Tommy approached Kimber and dropped full bags of money onto his table. Grace and Dorothy continued to daze the men around them by dancing together, although, Grace was trying to subtly lead Dorothy towards the men's conversation. Their dancing became less fluid and more forceful and each step Grace took was in Tommy's direction.

"What the hell are you doing?" Dorothy asked through gritted teeth. "We're meant to be a distraction."

Grace simply shrugged her off and Dorothy quickly improvised, calling out to Billy, "Mr Kimber, my friend here would love to have a dance with you."

Kimber mumbled something to the man sat beside him and straightened his tie. "Well I'm not one to disappoint, love," Dorothy winced at the pet name she so loathed, "Let me show you what I've got." Grace looked startled at the new development and Tommy continued to discuss business with Kimber's men while Billy swept Grace away. Dorothy perched close to the bar and took a moment to herself to regroup. Grace was behaving more unusually than normal. The two women were not close, not for the lack of trying on Dorothy's part. Every conversation Dorothy attempted, Grace quickly ended in favour of being closer to the Shelby's, specifically Tommy. Dorothy could slightly sympathise. Thomas Shelby was a very attractive man with a quick wit and a mind for strategy. It was a pity that he also could be so cold and cutting when he wanted to, both verbally and physically. Dorothy couldn't imagine the sort of life that would come with being married to a Shelby but, based on her behaviour, she could tell Grace was eager to try. Grace's desperation was masked by curiosity. It took a woman to see that something else was going on too.

Ripped from her thoughts, a hand extended out to her, "Your turn now, love." Kimber's breath was stale and smelt of cheap cigars. His hair, greasy, and his suit was a cheap imitation of an expensive London style outfit. Every fibre of Dorothy's being wanted to push the repugnant man away from her, but she remained collected.

"Thank you, Mr Kimber, but I fear we would be ill-matched partners, what with my lack of experience," she smiled sweetly, "I wouldn't want to show you up." Dorothy knew the man's ego would mean he took her insult as a compliment but she rested easy in the knowledge that her wordplay went over his head.

Kimber went to re-join the men sat around the table and whispered something into Tommy's ear. Grace reappeared by Dorothy's side and the two watched Shelby and Kimber in silence. Kimber's eyes looked back from his seat to meet Dorothy's and her chest tightened.

Tommy lit a cigarette and walked over to join the ladies. "So listen." Dorothy's heart quickened as Tommy explained how she and Grace were to go back to Kimber's house without him as he finished business. "I'll throw in an extra three quid each, for your extra time."

Dorothy raised her hand to strike his face at his insult to their honour, but Tommy's reflexes caught her arm mid-swing and forcefully lowered it. Dorothy was certain there would be bruises on her arm the next day. Tommy's eyes looked forcefully at the two women and Grace could find no words.

"Of course, Mister Shelby," Dorothy said in as detached a tone as she could muster.

Tommy pulled Dorothy in close and whispered darkly, "You said you wanted to work for me. To do that you have to sharpen up. The deal is, I give him two hours with the two of you. He thinks he's a ladies man. He thinks he can seduce you both. Whenever you want, just kick him in the balls."

"Well, I wouldn't want to ruin your negotiations. I can see you've put a lot into the arrangement," Dorothy said sarcastically. That was how Tommy worked. Arthur collected the money, she and Grace sealed the deal, Tommy kept his hands clean and watched those around him suffer while he sipped a whiskey.

Kimber's home was as tasteless as Dorothy would have imagined it to be. Everything was carefully placed to express how much money the man had and incidentally showed how little style he had too. One of Kimber's men took their coats and Dorothy's purse, but Grace insisted on keeping her's close by.

"Let me show you how to dance, love." Dorothy cringed. "Follow me, this room has more space." Kimber grasped Dorothy's hand tightly and began to pull her from the room. Despite her mind whirring on overdrive, she couldn't think of a reasonable excuse to allow her to stay with Grace. Grace may not have been much but at least she was a woman. At least she was familiar.

"Make yourself at home, Greta," Billy shouted back towards Grace.

The room Dorothy and Kimber entered was just as grand and just as poorly designed as the previous one. Billy let her hand go as he walked towards a gramophone against the wall. Dorothy massaged her hand and tried to think of ways to get out of her current situation. Tommy's advice ran through her head, 'just kick him in the balls'. She took a steadying breath as Kimber approached her again.

"Don't worry, love," she flinched, "I'll go slow." Billy's repulsed her but she forced herself to remain calm. "You'll like it."

That sentiment alone was enough to make Dorothy's stomach flip and again, Tommy's advice played back through her head, 'just kick him in the balls'.

Kimber's hand began to wander from her back to her hip. His breath, hot on her neck. His cologne was suffocating. As Kimber's fingers began to pull the length of her dress up, Dorothy snapped. She refused to allow this to continue. With all her strength, Dorothy pushed against Kimber's chest, forcing him back a few steps.

"Easy there, love," Dorothy squirmed, "We can go somewhere more private if that's what you want." Kimber's suggestive tone sickened her and upon his second approach, Dorothy lashed out and hit him across the face. Billy was momentarily stunned that such a delicate frame could harness so much force behind a movement but quickly regained his senses. In seconds, Kimber had pushed Dorothy against the closest wall, his hand tightening around her neck.

"Listen here, you bitch. I've got two hours with you, and I intend to use 'em."

Small black dots danced on the edge of her vision as his grip squeezed tighter. His other hand made its way down to her left leg and forcefully ripped her stocking. Her nails dug into the hand constricting her throat. Panic had set in and she tried to wriggle free. His lips moved against her cheek forcefully as he pressed her further into the wall with his body. Kimber momentarily lost himself and the grip on her neck loosened just long enough for Dorothy to twist her head sideways and slam down towards Billy's nose.

Kimber fell back in shock, hands flying to his bloodied face and Dorothy took in two deep breaths. She shakily left the room in search of Grace. "Gra-" Dorothy couldn't speak for the agony in her throat. The blonde looked out the doorway to see Dorothy double over coughing up small flecks of blood. As Grace rushed towards Dorothy to help her Kimber stormed from the adjacent room, blood streaming from his nose.

"Leaving," Dorothy choked out. From deeper into the house, the women could hear a commotion growing closer. Dorothy straightened herself in preparation for a second struggle when, much to everyone's surprise, Thomas Shelby walked through the door.

"What are you doin' 'ere? I've got another hour." Kimber yelled.

Tommy approached, placing himself between the women and Kimber. "Just wait. Listen to me. Just listen to me. I was gonna let you go through with it but in the end, my conscience got the better of me. They look good on the outside but… They have the clap."

Kimber paused and stared at the women, who had both turned scarlet red, before he started chuckling. "That's what you get for using cheap whores." Kimber spat. In a burst of rage-filled energy, Dorothy took two steps towards Kimber and swung her foot up to his crotch. Kimber fell to his knees, groaning in pain.

Tommy turned to order the ladies to wait in the car, giving Grace a push for good measure. Dorothy was too exhausted to notice the guilt in his eyes.

Dorothy walked straight to the car and sat in the backseat as Grace sidled up to Tommy as they drove away.

"Start of the day I was Lady Sarah of Connemara," Grace began, "By the end, I was a whore with the clap." Tommy remained silent. "You're a fucking bastard, offering us up like that."

"I don't hear her complainin' about it," Tommy countered.

Dorothy's voice was rough and her throat still tender as she replied, "I wouldn't want to waste my breath."

Tommy drove to Grace's street first and as she wished Tommy a good night, he drove away.

"Where to?" Tommy gruffly asked.

"Anywhere. I'll walk."

"It's not safe out for a lady at night 'round these parts."

Dorothy gave a sick chuckle at Tommy's statement. "Not safe? Why would you give a fuck if I'm not safe? Let me out the damn car now."

Tommy hit the brakes and the car came to a stop. Dorothy gathered her purse and opened the door. She wasn't entirely sure where she was but anything would be better than remaining in the car with him. Her knee's wobbled with each step. The stress of the day had caught up with her and her adrenaline had fallen completely. She stumbled three more steps before falling to the ground in a heap.

"Dorothy!" Tommy called and rushed over to her, gently transferring her weight so she was knelt on the floor leaning against his chest. The wound on her hand that had been healing nicely had reopened and her whole body was shaking. "Dolly, you ok?" Tommy couldn't hide the worry in his voice. He was no fool. Her stockings had been ripped, her dress creased, and her hair knotted. He could see the faint blue marks around her neck and the small splatters of blood down her front. Tommy knew how men like Kimber worked and seeing the quivering woman in his lap, he didn't want to think about what had happened.

Dorothy groaned in response and tried to push off from Tommy into a standing position. As she swayed into an upright position, Tommy scooped her up into his arms and placed her back in the car. He rested her hair on his shoulder and she quickly shifted her weight to rest on the side of the car rather than the man beside her.

"Just take me to The Garrison," Dorothy mumbled.

"You'll stay with us tonight. Pol will check on you."

"No."

"For hell's sake, stop fighting me and just listen, you-"

"No!" Dorothy shouted, surprising even herself with the energy she gathered. "I will never stop fighting men like you and Kimber." Tommy felt bile rise up his throat as she grouped him in with men like Kimber. "Just take me to The damn Garrison and leave me alone."

Tommy inhaled deeply and adjusted his strategy, opting for a softer tone.

"Dorothy, just let me take you to Pol. She can check on you." Dorothy looked as though she was gearing up to deny him once again so he reluctantly added, "Please?"

Dorothy conceded and they arrived shortly after at the Shelby house.

Dorothy walked unsteadily on her own into the house, Tommy close by in case she was to fall again.

"Pol," Tommy shouted.

"Shhh! You'll wake the damn kids!" Polly whispered forcefully before taking note of the fragile woman in front of her.

"What's happened here? Tommy? What the bloody 'ell had happened?"

Tommy couldn't find the words to answer, so Dorothy spoke instead. "I got mixed up with Thomas Shelby."

Polly ordered the girl to stay the night and informed her that the next morning she would visit the apothecary and get something to soothe the bruises on her neck and arms. As Polly was talking, Dorothy could barely keep her eyes open. The second her head hit a pillow that night, she fell into a restless sleep.

**A/N** Hello everyone, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review, favourite and follow this story - it really means alot!

-QwertyWords


	5. Chapter 5

Dorothy had been avoiding anyone named Shelby since the incident. Polly, Ada and even Finn had tried to talk to her on the streets but she simply kept her head down and continued on her way. She had told Harry she was unwell and needed a few days off. He hadn't put up much of a fuss, leaving Dotty to believe that Tommy had said something on her behalf. The very last thing she wanted was to see Tommy Shelby stood at the bar in all his glory, while she felt small and dirty, as though no amount of washing and scrubbing would get rid of the feeling of Kimber's fingers on her skin.

After three days, locked in her room, Dorothy returned to The Garrison. She needed the money to pay for the roof over her head. If she ever hoped to have a place of her own, she needed to stop paying the daily fees from what little savings she had. Grace rushed over to her as she entered the pub. Dorothy was shocked but tried to keep her unease to herself. The one day she wanted a silent shift was, of course, the one day Grace finally wanted to talk.

"What did you and Tommy talk about after I left a few nights ago?" Grace asked. An unusual first question Dorothy thought, especially given the shortness Grace usually spoke with. "I hadn't seen you since… I wanted to make sure you were ok…" the other barmaid continued.

Dorothy cleared her throat. Her neck was still tender from… The incident… And not speaking to anyone for three days hadn't helped her hoarse voice. "Nothin'."

Clearly realising that was the end of the conversation, Grace returned to her place behind the bar, polishing glasses.

When the Shelby's walked in, Dorothy cursed under her breath and excused herself into the back. She counted and recounted their stock five times, trying to make sure when she emerged from the back, there would be no trace of that family. Finn's faint yelling drew Dotty back into the room. The panic in his words set a chill in her bones and before she realised what she was doing, she found herself locking eyes with Tommy Shelby. Arthur and John dragged their brother out towards their house while Polly took her time, securing her hat with a single pin. She took two steps towards Dorothy and held out her arm. The room fell silent, all eyes on the two women. Tommy may have a reputation for being dangerous but there was no doubt that Polly Shelby was equally as lethal. Polly's arm was not a request, but rather a demand politely offered as a choice. Dorothy took the elder woman's arm and was led into the snug. Dorothy could see Grace as she craned her neck to get a look as the door closed.

"Now. Dotty. We need to put an end to this," Polly started, "Those bruises around your neck are healin' up nicely and as far as I can see you're in top shape otherwise. So. That's that."

Polly stood to leave as Dorothy began "You don't know what he did-"

Polly stared directly at Dorothy.

"I don't know what he did? Do you think I'm as stupid as the boy's look? Of course I know. I also know Tommy didn't let anything actually happen. So you need to get over it. Tommy's been in a foul mood since that night and it's bad for business. He doesn't think clearly when he is a bad mood. And when he doesn't think, people end up hurt. Tommy's the one that keeps things goin' around here."

Polly's bluntness hurt Dorothy. The Shelby could see the pain in the younger woman's eyes and sat back down next to her. She took Dorothy's chin gently in her palm and brought the young woman's gaze to meet her own. "Women like you and me, we've seen some shit. We've done some shit. And before the day's over we'll see and do some more. I know all too well exactly what happened, and I know how you feel. But Dotty - women like you and me are far stronger than men like Tommy and Kimber give us credit for. It's scary. It happened. It's done. Ok love?" Polly delicately wiped a tear from Dorothy's eyes and squeezed her hand reassuringly. Dorothy nodded and followed Ms Shelby back out towards the bar. "Harry," Polly called, "I'm taking Dotty for the rest of the day. I've got a man that needs stitchin' up. Make sure she gets paid for the full day." Harry simple nodded as Grace's eyes followed Dorothy and Polly out the door.

Dotty patched up Scudboat silently as the Shelby's talked around her. She knew better than to interject in family business.

"Why would they leave wire cutters?" Polly asked the room. The question caught Dorothy by surprise as she looked up, her blood turned cold.

"Shit." She whispered. Tommy caught her terrified look and after a few seconds, understood the young woman's fear.

"Nobody move," said Arthur as he looked around the room at his brothers.

"I think our friends are playing a game…" Tommy added. Dorothy stood slowly, trying not to shift her weight or move too much. "It's not in here. It was my name on that bullet. It's a trap alright, but he set it just for me." Tommy left the room and Dorothy took it as her cue to leave. The telling sound of an explosion from down the road told her that the trap had been found.

Dorothy stopped off on her way back to the Inn at the Garrison to collect her wages. Grace tried to ask where she had gone and what had happened, but Dorothy wasn't in the mood to play nice with a woman that ignored her most of the time. As she arrived back at her lodgings, she knocked on a small office door to pay for the next few nights.

"Miss Jones." The shrill voice of the lady of the house called her further into the office.

"Just here to pay for the next few days ma'am," Dorothy replied.

"That won't be necessary Miss Jones. You see, some other guests have noticed the odd hours you keep and the company you associate with. Now, we don't want any trouble… But this establishment doesn't seem to align with your interests. And, of course we mean no disrespect, Miss Jones, to you or your… Companions. But-"

Dorothy cut the woman off, "You want me out because I work at the Garrison. The Shelby pub. Right ma'am?" The silence in the room spoke volumes. "Fine," Dorothy huffed.

Later that evening, she thought back to what Polly had said about women like them. Seen and done some shit indeed. Dorothy curled up underneath her coat in the snug of the Garrison. It would have to do for now.

Dorothy grew tired over the following days. She opened and closed each day, working most hours in between. She had nowhere else to go and needed the money. Sleeping at The Garrison was a temporary solution and she wanted to buy a small place of her own. Finn ran into the Garrison, requesting a bottle of whiskey be delivered to the Shelby house and disappeared in an instant, no doubt running his next errand for his brothers. Grace had the morning off and so Dorothy picked up the bottle and made her way towards the house. She had only seen the family in passing since the Lees had turned over the Shelby's den. Since the day Polly had given her some motherly advice. All of her wounds had healed and all by looking at her, you would never be able to tell that Dorothy had anything less than a pleasant life. As she approached the house, she noted a fancy car parked outside. It was even nicer than Tommy's and so must have been some 'business' Tommy was dealing with. She knocked on the door and patiently waited before Scudboat answered with a polite 'Miss Dotty'. He stepped aside and she entered the gambling den. It was just as busy and loud as always, but for Dorothy, everything stopped when she saw Kimber looking around. Her mouth went dry and she swore her heart stopped just for a moment. She set the bottle down forcefully on the closest table and walked urgently out of the house. Tommy turned at the sound of glass tapping wood and caught a brief flash of Dorothy as she left the room in a blur.

The following day Grace told Dorothy to make herself scarce, and that she would work Dorothy's shift. Dorothy pretended to be grateful for the break but cursed the fact she would have to wake even earlier than normal to avoid detection as the Irish woman opened up for the day. Dorothy tied her few belongings away behind the bar and planned to walk around and get to know the area a bit better. It didn't take long before her plans were stopped by a Shelby. Multiple Shelby's in fact. Three small children were sat in front of the Shelby house, yelling at one another over the ownership of some marbles. Dorothy was going to continue on her way, but when the oldest child lunged for the youngest, she intervened.

"Now, what's all this! All this fuss over some marbles?" Dorothy soothed the children and even played with them for a little while which is exactly how John Shelby found them all.

"Ey! Now you leave Miss Dorothy alone. Go on!" The children giggled at their father's attempt to discipline and hastily gathered their toys and ran. Dorothy stood as John sighed into his hands. "Dorothy, I'm sorry if they was pesterin' ya-"

"Dotty, please," Dorothy smiled back at the father.

"Dotty," John returned her smile, "Do you wanna' come in for a drink?"

Dorothy had no intention of ending up in the Shelby kitchen when the day began but she often just seemed to find herself in these situations. John pulled out two glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

"It's a little early, don't you think?" Dorothy questioned.

"Is tea alright?"

"Tea would be perfect." Dorothy watched as John stacked the glasses back into the cupboard and fumbled around the kitchen looking for the sugar. "Do you know how to brew a tea, John?" John simple planted his hands on the counter and sighed in response.

"Martha used to do all this."

Dorothy guided the young man back into a seat and set about making the tea.

"Martha used to do it all. I dunno' how she managed while I was away. Must 'ave been hell."

"She probably had help, John. No one can do it all on their own."

"Ain't that the truth. Those kids need a mother. They run 'round wild most of the time. It's only when Polly calls 'em in do they listen. Only when Ada read to them did they sleep. No Polly's busy dealin' with Tommy and Ada's God knows where…" John paused for a sad, silent moment. "They need a mother. I need to marry a good woman so those kids can 'ave someone." John's sad eyes met Dorothy's and she almost spat out her tea from laughing.

"Oh- John," she chuckled "Well with a proposal like that, how could I ever say no!". John blushed a deep shade of red before joining in with the woman's laughter.

"Somethin' tells me you're spoken for…" He mumbled.

"I most certainly am not! What does that mean?" Dorothy asked.

John ignored her, "Lizzy Stark. She's not perfect, but she'd 'ave been a good mother. A dutiful wife. I don't need love, I had that with Martha. Just need someone to look after my kids."

Dorothy placed her hand on John's arm.

"Your kids are wonderful John. They're young and happy and cared for. You know very well nothing will ever happen to them with their uncles looking out for them. They're children. We had to grow up so fast in the war, we often forget that kids are just kids. Let 'em have their fun. Let 'em stay children for as long as they can. You'll find someone eventually and it'll be someone you care for. Not just someone that will do."

The two finished their teas in comfortable silence before Dorothy made her way towards the door. She stopped just as she was about to leave and turned to look back at the Shelby brother.

"They've got me too. I may not be their mother, but if you ever need someone to read them a story or make a cuppa tea, come find me."

John, Arthur and Tommy entered the Garrison in high spirits the following evening. Each of the three men pulled Dorothy aside, one by one.

Arthur informed her that Ada was having the baby, and a nurse would be a welcome sight in the Shelby household. Dorothy served the men their first round and gathered a few supplies to help the women.

As she made her way towards The Garrison doors, John pulled her into a hug. She could smell the liquor on his breath and his happiness was plain as day. "She's beau-iful…" John slurred, informing Dorothy of his new bride. He seemed happy enough and she just smiled as she walked out.

Footsteps followed her out of the pub, and she turned around to see Tommy following her out. At first he was silent, just holding steady eye contact.

"Well, if that's all, Mr Shelby," Dorothy turned around and continued walking towards the house. She could swear she heard Ada's screams from all the way up the road.

"Doll."

Dorothy faltered. She stopped walking but didn't turn to face him.

"I'm sorry."

Dorothy smiled and continued walking as she said, "Thank you, Thomas."

Dorothy was too far away to see Tommy's grin.

Ada delivered a healthy baby boy, with the assistance of the three women. Karl's cries echoed the cries of his parents that evening, as Freddie was pulled from the house.

**A/N** Long time, no see.

I'm writing this chapter pretty late at night so I apologise if there are a few mistakes. Also I'm very sorry for taking so long to upload this - I promise I will try to write more regularly! I've loved reading your reviews and seeing how much people want me to continue really motivates me so please continue reviewing!

-QwertyWords


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